


the leaves were falling

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Depression, Disordered Eating, Ducking Out, M/M, Morally Neutral Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, The others are mildly unsympathetic at first, The relationships might change idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: If it wasn't for Thomas's well-being, Deceit doesn't know what he'd do.He still doesn't know.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 50
Kudos: 158





	1. if only i could stay

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have lots of this pre-written but i'm hoping if i post it, it will give me a kick to actually work on it, so :p
> 
> i haven't forgotten about everything else either, i swear

Deceit hisses in a sharp breath as he storms through the dark sides commons, resisting slamming his bedroom door by the skin of his teeth. The only reason he manages to resist is the fact that he knows Remus and Wrath will come running, and he doesn't want to be bothered by _anyone_ right now, even the people he actually cares about.

"That could have gone...worse," he says aloud, casting his hat and capelet to one side and stripping off his gloves, leaving them to drop carelessly on his bed. 

They had missed his point entirely. Fair enough, he expects it of the other three, but _Logan_? Surely he could see what Deceit was trying to get at? Thomas _couldn't_ just listen to Patton. He would burn out completely, and then where would they all be? Rotting in the depths of Thomas's mind, where _no one_ could properly influence him. He's _seen_ Thomas burn out and it's not pretty.

But no, apparently it's what he should strive for, Deceit thinks bitterly as he plucks his corn snake Anaconda from her perch and lets her wind around his shoulders. Why care about Thomas's actual well being? No, surely it's more important to let him exhaust himself taking care of everyone else but him. Has Patton never heard of the saying on airplanes, that you need to attend to your own oxygen mask before assisting anyone else?

Thomas wanted the callback. _Roman_ wanted the callback. Deceit wonders if Patton understands just how much he has hurt the creative side, insisting the only _good_ option, the only _honorable_ option, is squashing Thomas's hopes and dreams like a particularly nefarious bug. Roman is Thomas's ego. An ego can be wounded. Is Roman? Is he in his own room, nursing a set of emotional bruises and trying to pretend that he's done what he wanted all along?

Deceit hisses through his teeth, running a scaled hand through unruly hair. 

"I'm done," he speaks aloud to the sanctity of his room, and to his snake. "If that's what they want, I'm _done_. Thomas doesn't need to lie? That's _fine_. I don't have to stick around this- this _bullshit_ anymore." He sighs, feeling unbearably weary.

He's thought of ducking out before, of course. He'd be lying (ha!) if he said he hadn't. But his function as Thomas's self preservation has always stayed his hand before. But maybe...

Is there a way to duck out and remain at the same time? He doesn't truly want to disappear. Not with Thomas at stake. If it were purely the others, the Light Sides could go choke.

But if he can remove his influence, while still remaining hidden in the depths of the dark side... He's capable of moving his room around, of course, they all are. The only stipulation comes from the divide that Patton forced into being. But he has no desire to move his room to the light side in the first place. If he moves it deeper, then it _will_ look like he's ducked out. He'll reassure the others of course, he promises himself, lightly stroking Anaconda's scales. Remus in particular should know that Deceit isn't abandoning him. Could never abandon him.

The Light Sides, on the other hand... The smile that curls his lips has no humor in it.

How will _they_ do, when they no longer have the ability to lie? When only the purest and sharpest of truths can spill, unbidden, from their lips?

Suddenly, he can't _wait_.


	2. the road less traveled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk when the next chapter will be uploaded after this but rest assured, i am invested :p

It takes a lot of energy to move his room deeper into the subconscious. Almost too much energy, but Deceit draws strength from the cruelty of the others, from the sneers and glares directed his way, the hostility and outright hatred, the jeers and petty insults that still burn his ears.

_Get out of here, Jack the Fibber!_

_Dr. Trickle and Mister Lied._

_DECEIT!_

_Even if he can tell the truth, that doesn't mean he can be trusted._

Their words burn in his ears, coating his forked tongue with bittersweet tanginess, bursting and flooding his mouth like an overripe peach.

He is Deceit, the snake come to tempt Thomas in the Garden of Eden, and he is wholeheartedly sick of all of them. 

'The one goal of self preservation,' Patton had said. Funny how that no longer applies when he can look Deceit in the face. No, this is for the best, he convinces himself, swaying in the middle of his room, freshly gloved hands held out for balance. The other Dark Sides will still be able to reach him, but he doubts that Thomas or the Light Sides will. Not that he can see them attempting it. After all, this is what they wanted, isn't it? They want Deceit out of the picture. Well, he's more than willing to oblige. He can see now that his attempt to step into the light and reveal himself was a mistake. Virgil has been accepted, but he should have known that he would never be granted the same courtesy.

After all, once a liar, always a liar.

His cheek feels damp and he is startled to realize that he's crying. How pathetic. The others would sneer if they could see him now, standing weakly in the center of his room, tears slipping down one side of his face in an unsteady stream. He is nothing but a villain and villains don't cry. Villains don't-

They don't-

Deceit collapses to the ground like his strings have been cut, hands curling weakly in his lap. His eyelids flutter, struggling to maintain consciousness, as his body sags. His shoulders bow inward, like they've crumpled under the weight of some unimaginable burden. Perhaps they have.

A loud knock on the door assaults his ears and he frowns. He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now. Remus is too energetic and Wrath is too-

Well, angry is the kindest word for it.

"Dee Dee?" Remus calls through the wood, and he flinches because he can _feel_ the concern emanating from the creative side. "Dee Dee, why did your room move? Are you okay? Did Morality do it? Can I hit him with my morning star? I want to see his brain go-"

"He didn't do it!" Deceit blurts out, giving Remus pause. He coughs, hating how weak and raspy his voice sounds right now. "I did it, Remus. I moved my room."

"Why?" Remus sounds wholeheartedly confused, not that Deceit can blame him. Deceit's never moved his room before. Not on purpose, anyway. It's slowly inched _closer_ to the light side, not farther away.

"It's complicated, Remus," Deceit finally settles on.

"You- you aren't gonna duck out, are you?" Remus whispers, and Deceit's heart clenches.

"Like I said, it's complicated," he repeats wearily.

"Dee Dee, open the door," Remus demands. "You can't do this. I- I won't let you."

"It's already done," Deceit admits. "Now they'll _have_ to tell the truth." He laughs, but the sound lacks humor.

"I'll break down the door," Remus threatens. He sounds near tears. Deceit waves a tired hand and the door clicks open, leaving a disheveled Creativity to almost fall flat on his face.

"There," Deceit says. "As you can see, I am fine."

"No, you aren't," Remus says bluntly, picking himself up. "You look like shit."

"Eloquent as always," Deceit murmurs, with an exhausted smile. "I suppose it takes a lot out of you, removing your room to the depths of the subconscious."

"But why, Dee Dee?" Remus asks, cocking his head to one side. His eyes glitter like green glass.

"They don't want me around," Deceit says. "Why not oblige them? I can still work from the shadows, just-" He shrugs. The movement exhausts him. "They'll have to confront a few truths."

"They can eat a thousand raccoon assholes," Remus says sharply. "This-" He stops, frustrated. "This is _bad_ , Dee Dee."

"Is it," Deceit says, listless. "I hadn't noticed."

"If they want to confront the truth, let _me_ visit," Remus whispers. His teeth gleam in the light. Deceit considers it for a moment. He actually rather likes the idea. But what of the effect on Remus? He'll never admit it, but he _can_ be hurt.

"Thomas does want to be _honest_ ," Deceit hisses. "Perhaps... Perhaps, it _would_ be good for you to visit. But not willy nilly. Let me- let me come up with a plan."

"You should sleep," Remus says, peering into his eyes. "You look like a semi ran you over, then backed up and ran you over again."

"Stay with me?" Deceit requests. It is pitiful, and he knows it.

Remus agrees without blinking.


End file.
